The Roots of Negativity
by The Oddball Storyteller
Summary: Mahariel knows anger, guilt and sorrow... Zev can relate. Brief Tamlen X Mahariel, mainly Zevran X Mahariel - Rated 'T' for some language
1. Hook in Mouth

**A/N: **Surprise! Indeed, this one had not been intended. But I love Tamlen and couldn't resist...

"Two things that a person should never be angry at: what they can help, and what they cannot." - Thomas Fuller

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><p><em>Part 1: Hook In Mouth<em>

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><p>He knew he was being hunted. It felt strange - the hunter being the hunted, that is. He could feel the predator's eyes boring through the back of his head. The leaves rustled above him and he knew that the stalker was hidden in the forest canopy. He wasn't aware of it at first, but he had picked up the pace.<p>

She sped up as well, causing the branches to bend and the leaves to float down gracefully. When they started falling in front of him, his heart nearly stopped. She was impossibly fast one second and then utterly still in the next. Where was she…?

"Now, now, _Lethallan_, is this truly necessary? We are not children any longer…" His bright blue eyes were scanning carefully. _Where was she_? "I hate this game…"

"Tamlen!" she cried as she flew out of a nearby tree. She crashed into him, sending them both to the forest floor. He grunted, his hands finding her hips – instinctively he positioned them so that he was the one taking the brunt of the fall.

For a moment, they simply remained there. He blinked up at her smiling face. Then she was giggling happily… He enjoyed it when she was happy, but he didn't like being thrown off balance… He rolled them over and pinned her to the ground. "You are very troublesome," he let her know. She laughed even more.

"Liar. And by the way, it's not a game; it's a test!"

"This cannot be," he said with his own smile. "If it were, I would undoubtedly pass."

"Not this time, _Lethallin_." She smiled up at him. "Did I break anything?" she asked him after a moment.

He made sure that his blade and other equipment was intact. "No, everything seems to be fine."

"Good. Now then, would you allow me up?"

Hmm? Was he still…? He glanced down. Yes, he was. His body prevented any movement on her part and she was giving him that sly smile that he was seeing more and more recently. He scowled and grumbled as he pushed himself to his feet.

"Walk with me," he said, even if she had annoyed him. Well, he thought, it wasn't that she had annoyed him – it was the fact that he couldn't control his body's reactions to her. It was the fact that when he saw her smile, he wanted to do the same. The fact that just the brush of her fingers along his arm made his blood rush… The fact that she seemed immune to him even when he made a pass at her…

"Tamlen," she called from behind him. She caught up easily. "What is making you frown like that?" She poked his cheek and he looked at her as if she'd punched him.

"Virtua, you are playing with fire here."

"Hmm... Funny. I thought I was playing with _you_."

There it was again – that damned smile that made his insides knot up and made him feel…stiff. He sighed heavily and decided to ignore her… Why do that, one might ask him… The reason was simple: because she hated it more than anything.

"Tamlen. Tamlen, are you listening to me?" It was music to his ears, truly. "Tamlen, I will plunge this blade into your side!" she threatened, but he knew that she was lying.

"Can you not just enjoy the walk?" he asked her.

She was scowling when he decided to look at her. Those pale blue eyes held no heat, however. She gave him another bright smile. "I can," she said after a moment. "But only because I'm with you."

He'd kill her. She was tormenting him deliberately. Oh, he'd make her pay for this. Somehow, someway, she'd be sorry… He shook his head.

"Here," he said after they reached the lake. He handed her a long rod that was meant for fishing. "I'm going to check the traps." He went to do so.

Virtua sighed and started poking around in the dirt. She could find the night crawlers easily here. Fish enjoyed such things for some reason. She'd watched a young one eat one of the wiggly creatures before – had been a little disgusted, actually.

Yes, Virtua preferred the finer things – honey from the beehives, the fruits and vegetables that she so enjoyed scavenging for and sometimes, very rarely, she'd indulge herself and eat the meat that the deer, the birds or the bears offered. Fish was not her favorite, but it was better than… She looked at the writhing pink creature in her hand and made a face.

She glanced over, observed Tamlen's progress as he pulled one of the nets out, revealing a few fish – not enough to feed their clan. Good thing it wasn't completely up to them to bring something back. The thought made her smile.

Tamlen moved for the next net and started pulling it up; she watched his muscles work, watched as he frowned at what little the net had captured. She loved that thoughtful frown, loved all of him, really.

She knew that he thought she teased him. In truth, however, she felt just as he did. She treasured every second she had with him, every brief touch. She loved when he glanced at her when he thought she wasn't looking – but she was always looking, always looking at him. She found that she couldn't help herself.

"What about the cages?" She cast the line into the water and smiled. Tamlen met her gaze over the water and went to check the cages as well. Only a few crawfish.

Tamlen came to her side, bringing their small bounty… He collapsed and took out his own fishing supplies. He didn't look happy in the slightest.

Virtua gave a short laugh and he glared at her. "Fret not, Tamlen," she said, running her fingers through his shiny blonde hair. "The other hunters are sure to bring back more than us; this is sad, but true. We were simply not made to be food gatherers."

"Indeed," he agreed. "So, why did the Keeper send us out here…?" he wondered aloud. "Surely, she knows that we would be much better – not to mention, we would rather be – fighting off possible _shemlen _attacks."

Virtua nodded her head, causing her ebony hair to fall into her face. She brushed it aside quickly. Felt a gentle tug on the other end of the line. Immediately, her attention went to that. Another tentative tug. Then the fish was caught on the hook. She pulled him in quickly and handed him off to Tamlen.

The fish was put into one of the other nets. They all flopped and labored for the water that they relied on so heavily. It was always a sad thing, she thought, to see another creature die. But the clan always gave thanks, for without those creatures, they would surely perish as well.

Tamlen couldn't help but feel the same as the fish she'd just captured. He looked at her from the corner of his eye. She was staring out at the water, her mouth set in a gentle frown that he wanted to kiss off of her face.

He was hooked. Had been for a while now, but he had not wanted it to be so. Why did the thought scare him so much? It was something that he had wondered about countless times. He liked saying that Dalish hunters felt no fear, but...that was obviously an untruth.

It wasn't such a terrible fate, really. He nodded to himself. Virtua was all things bright and good, she was laughter and hope. Sure, she could be childish sometimes, but he found that he actually enjoyed her antics.

Tamlen grunted, causing her to look back at him. "What's wrong?" she asked him.

"Nothing," he was quick to reassure, even as he climbed to his feet. He went to tell her about his new-found discovery and then thought twice about it. He closed his mouth. She gave him a curious expression, but didn't press the issue.

He was used to her teasing him, purring things at him like, "I've missed you…" or "I wanted to be with you…" Would she tease him about this? Would she laugh because she believed he was joking?

He'd have to tell her, though. Sooner or later. _Later_, he thought. He'd tell her when they were all alone, when that mischievous glint that was always in her eyes was no longer present. _Kind of like right now… _

Right now, she wore a sad expression – one that he was not used to seeing on her. "Is something wrong with you, _Lethallan_?" he asked, concerned.

She smiled, shaking her head. "No, I'm fine. Happy, even."

"Really now? Why is that?" He was incredulous.

"Because," she murmured, "I'm with you."

Yep. He was definitely a fish - a fish that had been swimming around, completely at ease, before _she_ decided to go fishing in his water-hole. Now he was hers to toy with, hers to torment.

He smiled. For now, until he built up the courage to tell her how he felt, he wouldn't have things any other way.

"What do you say we head back now?" he asked her. "You're right about one thing: the other hunters have most likely caught something worth eating!"

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><p><strong>Part 1: complete! <strong>And for anyone that's not a nerd - like me - I used "Elvish" terms. _Shemlen_ - "quicklings" or "quick children" (it's what the elves call the humans...), _Lethallin _and _Lethallan_ is a casual reference used for someone with whom one is familiar. _Lethallin _is used for males, while _Lethallan_ is used for females.


	2. How a Heart is Broken and Mended

**Author's Note: **This is part two of three. Enjoy.

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><p><em>Part 2: How a Heart is Broken and Mended<em>

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><p>She had thought him dead. He'd touched the mirror, had contracted the Blight disease and had been left untreated. Even Duncan, the Grey Warden that had helped her when she would have eventually died from the disease, had told her that there was no way that he could have lived through it. What else could she have believed?<p>

She'd hated herself. She'd lived with the pain, the anger, the guilt. Even now, looking at...whatever this was – because this certainly couldn't be her Tamlen – she felt the undying self-hatred. The scars had been ripped open and now bled freely once again…

"You… _Lethallan_…"

Mercy of the gods… It couldn't be. _Can't _be. She shook her head frantically, closed her eyes. But when she reopened them, he was still standing there.

"Don't come near me!" he cried and started running.

"Tamlen!" she cried and raced after him. She caught up to him using the same speed that she'd always had. "Tamlen!"

He looked at her through wounded eyes. Did he know, she wondered. Did he know that she'd betrayed him? That she'd been stupid and had slept with the other blonde elf that traveled with her?

"Don't look at me!" he pleaded. "I am…sick!" And he was – she could see it. His hair was gone, his skin, once pale, was now dark with even darker blotches…and his eyes looked…_dead_.

"Tamlen, we can help you!" she said quickly. "Don't be afraid…"

"No help!" he cried. "No help for me… The song, in my head, it calls to me… He sings to me. I can't stop it! Don't want…to hurt you, _Lethallan_… Please! Stop me!" His whole body trembled, as if he were fighting the urge to move.

"I wish we'd never found that cave…" There were tears streaming down her face.

He looked down, kept his face hidden as he said, "Always loved you… I'm so sorry!"

And then he was coming at her, sending a powerful fist into her face. She grunted and immediately tried to catch his next punch. "Tamlen…" She thought she'd screamed. She wasn't sure, however. She didn't want to have to kill him; he was her one love, her _da'mi_ – little blade.

Luckily, her ever-observant friend, Alistair, heard the struggle and was there immediately. Zevran was quick to come to her aid as well. She wasn't the one that struck the final blow against him; Alistair took that decision away from her.

"Who…was that?" Alistair asked, looking confused and more than a little shocked.

"His name was Tamlen," she answered as if it hurt her to speak.

"Tamlen…? Then he was the one that was with you when you…? I'm so sorry. This is what happens when the taint is left unchecked. It's…it's better for him to have it end. It _was_ a mercy."

So he said. _Mercy_… She looked down at Tamlen's lifeless body even as Alistair began to walk away, giving her at least a semblance of privacy.

_"Always loved you…"_ She closed her eyes tightly. He waits until there's no hope of saving him, until she starts thinking that she might be able to move on to tell her _that_? The thing that she'd always wanted to hear from him?

"Zevran," she said, knowing that he was still standing behind her, watching her with his calculating eyes. "Help me dig."

"Hmm?"

"The Dalish bury the dead and usually plant trees over their remains," she informed. "I…need this," she told him. "Will you help me?"

"I could do nothing less, my dear Warden…"

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><p><em>Later that day: <em>

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><p>Things were going well. Alistair was certainly happy. They'd managed to save the entirety of Redcliffe, including Arl Eamon. Fighting abominations, demented mages, dragons and cultists were things that she never wanted to do again. Hopefully, she wouldn't be needing the Urn of Sacred Ashes anymore… Gods help her, otherwise.<p>

"Well then," Eamon started, his gaze locked on the Blood Mage, Jowan – the person that Loghain had sent in an attempt to get rid of the Arl of Redcliffe some time ago. He'd been locked in a dungeon, only being brought forth now that Eamon was healed. "What do you propose we do with him? As the injured party, I do not think I could make this decision with a level head."

Jowan had been the one to enter the Fade to help Connor, the Arl's son. This had prevented both the boy's death and his mother's. Did he deserve mercy? She thought so, but...

_I don't know_, she shouted in her head. Why was it always up to her? Why was she always the one made responsible for other people's lives? She didn't care whether or not Jowan lived, not when so many others depended on her to end the Blight. "Give him to the Circle," she found herself saying. She didn't know what would happen to him after that; he'd most likely be killed by the Templars because he was a known Blood Mage.

"Then it will be done," Eamon said. "Jowan, you will be sent to the Circle Tower. May the Maker have mercy on your soul."

"Thank you, my lord." Jowan bowed his head, not looking too happy. But it was better than being slain right then and there. Jowan was escorted out of the room by guards.

She was vaguely aware of the conversation afterwards, yet was somehow able to respond. "You intend to put Alistair forth as king?" she questioned, now very alert.

Alistair had informed her of his blood, yes. But he'd also told her that he'd never been wanted, that he'd been hidden away to ensure that his half-brother, the late King Cailan, kept the throne. Not only that, Alistair had made it clear to her that he never wanted to be king – he hated the very idea of it all. She dared to glance at the man, found him staring back at Eamon – but he didn't seem angry.

"Teagan and I have a claim through marriage, but we would seem opportunists, no better than Loghain. Alistair's claim is by blood."

"And what about me?" Alistair finally spoke up. "Does anyone care what I want?"

"You have a responsibility, Alistair. Without you, Loghain wins. I would have to support him, if only for the sake of Ferelden. Is that what you want?" Eamon questioned.

"I… but I… no, my lord." And if looks could kill, Eamon would be nothing but ashes by now.

"I see only one way to proceed," Eamon said. "I will call for a Landsmeet, a gathering of all of Ferelden's nobility in the city of Denerim. There, Ferelden can decide who shall rule, one way or another. What say you to that, my friend?"

"Do you honestly believe this Landsmeet idea will work?" Virtua felt the need to ask.

"That depends," Eamon told her. "If we cannot gain a consensus in the Landsmeet for Alistair, we cannot afford to oppose Loghain either. Does that mean that Loghain could win, even if he is the man that killed his own king and has gone mad with power? Perhaps. We must see that he does not."

"Then it seems we've little choice…" she found herself saying. They'd travel to Denerim and once there, they'd be able to finally get rid of the treacherous Loghain…

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><p>It always seemed like the trips to Denerim were the ones that lasted a life-time. It was a day away now and they had settled in for the night. It seemed like they were in the middle of nowhere, but that didn't bother her as much as it should have. Before any of this, she had traveled the lands with her clan – sitting around in dense forests was something that she enjoyed; it was familiar.<p>

Her traveling companions, as well as the arl and his men, were a distance away, carrying a light conversation in the hopes of ignoring the weight of everything else. She distracted herself none. Reality… It was something that she had hated as a child. Now she despised it even more so.

But she had to face the truth, just as everyone did. She'd loved and lost, she'd found hope – Zevran – only for it to be torn away once again.

_Always loved you… _

She wanted to scream at the memory. Dyack, sensing her distress, laid his head in her lap. The Mabari hound was a breed of dog known for its intelligence and strength. They would be loyal to one person – Dyack had chosen her – and anyone else risked death trying to force its obedience. Dyack was an excellent protector and an even better friend.

Virtua stroked the dog's head and he relaxed against her. He let out a pleased sigh and she allowed a soft, barely-there smile to come to her face. "Good boy…" she murmured, rubbing one of his ears between her index finger and thumb.

"Ah… I was wondering where you had run off to,_ amor_."

She felt like sighing. He knew that she didn't understand a lick of what he was saying; while she did enjoy his accent, she did not like being left in the dark – what in the world was he saying?

Slowly, Virtua turned her head to meet his gaze. "Zevran…" She sounded pathetic even to her own ears.

He sat down next to her with a sigh. He leaned back and tucked his arms under his head so that he could stare up at the night sky. "Do you wish to talk?"

She flinched visibly at the question. How could she possibly discuss things with him? How could she tell him that Tamlen had been her first love, that she still held feelings for her dead friend?

"I…don't know," she murmured. She didn't wish to upset him and she certainly didn't want to break down crying – and she knew that was what she would do if she dared to utter Tamlen's name.

What would he do then? What would Zevran, an Antivan Crow, a man trained to shove his emotions aside and take the kill no matter what, do at the sight of _her_ crying?

"He was my friend," she said after a long silence. "I'd known him since childhood. We did everything together – and we were always getting into trouble…" She smiled softly, as if fondly recalling a scolding coming from a clan elder. "There came a time, however, when we truly realized that we were no longer children – that it was time to stop acting like we were."

"Hmm?" He looked at her with his curious, beautiful brown eyes.

"We took up swords and bows and became hunters, protected the clan against _shemlens_ and made sure that no one went forgotten. One day," she said, meeting his gaze, "we came across three humans in the forest that we had set up camp in. They told us that there was a cave with riches inside, and naturally, he was curious.

The cave held ancient ruins. He said that they seemed like they were human-made, but also that it looked as though elves had once lived there. Further in, there was a mirror, somehow connected to the Darkspawn taint. He…touched it, even when I had told him not to."

He saw the tears sparkling in her eyes. The hurt was evident, just as it had been these last few days. She'd been reliving that moment over and over again, he'd realized.

"I was told that he was dead!" she nearly shouted. "That I should call off my search for him! And I…listened. I don't know why…" She shook her head frantically. "I betrayed him in more ways than one…"

This had him looking even more curious. "You say you betrayed him? How so?"

She seemed surprised that he would ask. "He was my most treasured person, my reason for being. I left him to _die_." He saw a flash of anger.

"You had no way of knowing that he still lived," he tried to reason.

"But I shouldn't have been so quick to give up on him… Maybe I could have found him. Maybe I could have prevented…whatever happened to him." She closed her eyes against another rush of tears. "It shouldn't have been like this!"

Zevran knew what she was feeling – she'd be surprised if he didn't. He'd killed the only other person he might have been able to have a future with – Rinna had been her name. It had been believed that she'd betrayed the Crows; they found out later that she hadn't. But Zevran had already killed her. He'd spat on her after she had confessed her love for him.

Zevran regretted, of course. It still hurt him to talk about it – she could see it in his face. They were the same. Two halves of the same whole…and that had her eyes widening in surprise.

"What is it, _amor_?"

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head. "Let's head back to camp and get some sleep…"

"I like where this is going…" Mercy of the gods, he was insatiable…

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><p>"And so here is the mighty Grey Warden at long last… The Crows send their greetings, once again." A male voice. Virtua's gaze lifted to the top of the stairs where a human rogue stood staring down at her. "And where is Zevran? I don't see him with you… How very disappointing."<p>

She'd left him behind. Now she was regretting that. He knew the Crows and their "wily ways"; he'd certainly be a big help when it came to fighting off this guy.

What were her options? She could tell him that she'd killed Zevran – not so hard to believe, right? She could pretend that she had no idea who Zevran was, too; they'd be under the impression that he had simply walked away and abandoned their order… Or, she could force a confrontation.

She went with the second option, saying, "Zevran? Zevran who?" She was a brilliant actress. She, too, was a rogue and was very good at what she did; lying and deceiving were things that she could do easily, but that didn't mean she enjoyed doing so.

The man chuckled, looking quite amused. "Don't bother. I know very well he travels with you…" Now things seemed a little ominous. Damn…

"Here I am, Taliesin. Tell me, were you sent? Or did you volunteer for the job?" Zevran had been following her, it would seem. Maybe he'd caught a whiff of danger, then? He truly did know their ways…

"And he makes an appearance!" There was real delight there – in Taliesin's eyes. "I volunteered, of course. When I heard that the great Zevran had gone rogue, I simply had to see it for myself."

"Is that so?" Zevran questioned. "Well, here I am, in the flesh."

"You can return with me, Zevran," Taliesin said, causing the hair on the back of Virtua's hair to stand on end. "I know why you did this, and I don't blame you. It's not too late. Come back and we'll make up a story. Anyone can make a mistake."

"Zevran doesn't need the Crows any longer…" She kept her tone low, threatening. She stared at the human through her narrowed gaze.

"Oh? Does Zevran need to live?" Taliesin locked eyes with her now, trying to intimidate her. It wouldn't work. She'd faced ogres before; like hell was this _human_ going to make her tremble in fear.

But the possibility of losing Zevran… She wanted to look at him, gauge his reaction to seeing this Crow. Did she dare trust him? Would he turn on her as her other traveling companions had guessed he would?

"I suspect I will manage just fine, Taliesin." Was that…a refusal? She blinked in surprise. "I'm sorry, my old friend, but the answer is no. I'm not coming back…and you should have stayed in Antiva."

A battle ensued, but didn't last long. Alistair let out his war cry and motivated the others to perform at their finest. Virtua and Zevran actually teamed up and went after Taliesin; he fell easily and they went after the other assassins – the ones that had been hiding up until that moment.

Afterwards, Virtua collapsed on the bottom stair and saw to her few wounds. The others were doing much the same. Zevran approached and she looked up at him. He stared down at her with his warm, chocolate colored gaze. She'd never wanted him so much…

"Here," he said suddenly. "It seems an appropriate moment to give you this."

"Hmm? You don't need to give me anything."

"I may not need to, but I want to. I acquired this on my very first job for the Crows. A Rivaini merchant prince, and he was wearing a single, jeweled earring when I killed him… In fact, that is about all he was wearing… I thought it was beautiful and took it to mark the occasion. I've kept it since…and I'd like you to have it."

A gift…? It felt strange being on the receiving end of things. She was used to handing out things that she knew her companions would like – why she practiced such things, she had no idea. But she did enjoy seeing their smiling faces; it was good that she could give at least someone some happiness before… She didn't even want to think about it.

"Thank you, Zevran. It's so beautiful!" She smiled at him, smiled as if the pain she had felt the other day was gone, as if it had simply…disappeared.

"Don't get the wrong idea about it," he said quickly, making her look at him curiously. "You killed Taliesin. As far as the Crows will be concerned, I died with him. That means I'm free, at least for now. You can sell it, wear it…whatever you'd like. It's the least I could give you in return."

More pain, appearing unexpectedly and shocking her into silence for a moment. "So…not a token of affection, then?" she asked.

"I…look, just…just take it. It's meant a lot to me, but so have…so has what you've done. Please, take it." She'd caught that slight hesitation. And she pressed:

"I'll only take it if it means something." She turned her gaze away from his outstretched hand and the sparkling earring. She imagined that she looked like a spoiled child.

"You are a very frustrating woman to deal with, do you know that?" He looked annoyed, and she didn't blame him. Zevran probably had the hardest time expressing himself… So why had she just turned him down like that? She was so stupid!

_You don't want the earring, you don't get the earring. Very simple. _She thought she'd heard him say that.

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><p>She continued on, despite the fact that her self-hatred and pain had resurfaced. There was much to be done now that she'd found out about Loghain; the bastard had not only betrayed the king and the Grey Wardens, he'd allowed Rendon Howe to torture people and he was selling city elves into slavery.<p>

She'd left Denerim for reasons that she couldn't even remember now. But the Landsmeet would begin soon, so she'd have to return before then. She and her companions sat around in their camp; she could hear Oghren wailing belligerently and Leliana was humming to herself somewhere to her left.

"Zevran," she murmured, but she was close enough to him that he could hear her. He looked in her direction.

"Yes, my dear Warden?"

"Will you…" She hesitated, which was strange for her. "Will you join me in my tent?" She needed to be with him. _Soon_.

"Ah… No, no… I do not think so. Surely, there is something else…?" he said awkwardly.

She blinked her wounded eyes at him. She looked down, but nodded. She left him alone for a long while, sitting with Alistair for a time before checking on Wynne. The sun would rise soon and she intended to be moving by then.

"You seem different now," she said when she came by him again. He seemed surprised that she would bring it up. But why would she not? Zevran would have never passed up an opportunity such as the one she had given him; he was a very sexual being.

"Hmm… I thought this would come up eventually. Are you certain you wish to know about this? I really don't know what to say…"

"If you don't wish to talk, that's fine," she muttered and went to turn away.

"I…" She lifted her gaze to look at him once more. "I am acting like a child, I realize. I apologize. Let me try to explain." He sounded as though he were pleading with her. "An assassin…must learn to forget about sentiment. It is dangerous. You take your pleasures where you can, when life is good. To expect anything more would be reckless.

I thought it was the same between us. A pleasant diversion and nothing more. And yet…" He paused and her eyes narrowed inquisitively.

"Are you saying you're in love with me…?" she asked him, finding that she didn't hate the idea. She wanted it to be so.

She couldn't spend her time chasing a ghost. She couldn't have Tamlen, but Zevran offered her everything that she'd once wanted with the other man. She could love the memory of her childhood friend…and she could have Zevran completely; she found that she was utterly and helplessly in love with the Antivan Crow. She'd just refused to acknowledge it until now.

"I don't know," she heard him say. "How would you know such a thing? I grew up amongst those who sold the illusion of love," he reminded, "and then I was trained to make my heart cold in favor of the kill. Everything that I have been taught says that what I feel is wrong. Yet I cannot help it."

Virtua shifted uncomfortably. She felt herself trembling – was this fear? She hated feeling this way. She met his gaze and tried to calm herself.

"Since you asked me to your tent, I have been nothing but confused," he admitted. "Do you understand me at all?"

She gave a half-smile; confused - yes, she was confused as well. She'd never had a proper love, either. That being known, she said, "I'm no wiser than you are in that area, Zevran."

"Then that is enough for me," he murmured, quite pleased. "I...still have the earring. I would like to give it to you...as a token of affection. Will you take it?"

Zevran was asking for something concrete, she knew. She wanted the same. She wanted something irrevocable. So she gave him one of her brightest smiles and said, "Sounds like a proposal."

"Not unless you wish it," he murmured, staring at her with an abnormally seductive smile. A smile that she immediately wanted to kiss right off of his face.

"I'll take it," she said, reaching out.

He took her hand in his much larger one and placed the piece of jewelry in the center of her palm. Never once did he look away from her face, however. "I am sorry for acting so strangely," he told her. "I think I will be better now. Much better." He watched her put the earring in and his smile broadened.

She cocked her head, but continued to hold his gaze. "I'm glad," she whispered as he leaned towards hers. He touched his lips to hers and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

But there was still much to do - and little enough time to do it. The Darkspawn horde was moving and they had to be there to intercept. The Landsmeet came first, however.

With a sigh, she nuzzled Zevran's neck. And then she pulled away, hand on her hip as she looked over the rest of her companions. "Time to pull up camp, everyone! Let's move!"

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><p><strong>Part 2: <strong>complete! I realize that I didn't always quote the characters exactly. I got the gist of it all, I believe. Also, I'm aware of the massive time-skips. This story _is _supposed to be short; this is how I've chosen to shorten it. XD


	3. Promising

**A/N:** part 3/3! Enjoy! This part is **rated T** for some language.

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><p>It went to stand, only to crumble once more. From her position, she could only watch. But that changed quickly. She ran, calling upon the speed that she had always possessed. As she ran, she took up one of the blades that someone – she didn't know who – had dropped upon their death.<p>

She met Zevran's gaze briefly as she ran by him; he meant to get in her way. A hand on his shoulder – Alistair's hand – stopped him. She closed her eyes for a split second before reopening them.

The Archdemon lifted its head and went to swallow her whole. Virtua ducked low and forced the blade into its vulnerable neck. She continued running, tearing through the Archdemon. When she reached its chest, she pulled away and watched as it, once again, collapsed. She wasn't done yet…

She lifted the blade high, letting out a furious cry – for the people that would always be lost to them, for the people that could have been lost – as she buried the sword to the hilt inside of the monster's head. Immediately, a blinding light escaped from the dying beast, visible even miles away from the battleground – Denerim – as it shot up into the sky. It wasn't a benevolent light – it burned her, made pain her way of life.

Zevran, Alistair and Morrigan stood and watched in both awe and horror. Zevran made a move to go to her, but stopped when he thought twice about it. And then…a massive explosion. It sent everyone flying back, including Virtua.

Below, where the army that Virtua and Alistair had gathered was, the remainder of the darkspawn horde felt the loss. The Archdemon had been slain – they had no guidance now, and they needed to return to the Deep Roads. Cheers rose up among the men; they had won…finally.

But what had happened to the Grey Wardens…?

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><p>"<em>The Blight had been ended before it had truly begun…"<em>

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><p>"My friends, we are gathered to celebrate those responsible for our victory," King Alistair said as they stood in the royal palace before his throne. "There is one in particular that deserves commendation. The one that led the final charge against the Archdemon remains with us still…an inspiration to all she's saved that day," Alistair looked down at Virtua and she started to ascend the stairs to stand at his side.<p>

"Ladies and gentlemen," Alistair began, "may I present to you, the Hero of Ferelden!"

The crowd roared its happiness. As a Dalish, she was not used to such attention – especially not from humans – but she remained still and kept her gaze locked on Alistair's face.

Alistair gave her a smile and spoke like a true king, "My friend, it is hard to imagine how you could have aided Ferelden more. Is there any boon that you might request of Ferelden's king? If it is within my power, I will grant it."

Virtua said simply, "The sacrifices of the Wardens should not be forgotten again."

"Now that's a very good point," Alistair agreed. "I think we can begin with a monument here in Denerim, dedicated to the Grey Wardens who have fallen. Duncan, Riordan…all of them. It's about time for a collection of scholars to learn more about the darkspawn… We'll face them again…"

Alistair moved away to address the rest of the crowd, "Let it also be known that the arling of Amaranthine, once the land of Arl Howe, is now granted to the Grey Wardens. There, they can rebuild, following the example of those who went before them."

Once again, he looked at her, "What are your plans?" he asked her in a hushed tone.

"I think I'll travel...at least for a time."

"I don't suppose the Grey Wardens are really in a position to stop you, are they? Then let me say that I hope your travels bring you back this way soon. Don't be a stranger." She nodded. "Ah! There's a group of Ferelden citizens outside waiting to get a look at their hero. I suggest you make at least an appearance before they storm the gate… Just tell the guard when you're ready." He laughed softly.

The audience started going on about their business, chatting with the other people that were there. Virtua wanted to speak to each of her companions before her world was turned upside down – again…

"So…" Alistair started when she nudged his elbow. "We did it. I'm impressed, aren't you? You killed an Archdemon and survived… One for the history books, right? I bet this had something to do with that night with Morrigan…" He was giving her a look now. "I'm not that dumb," he said.

"The rest of the Grey Wardens haven't arrived yet from Orlais, but they've already been asking questions," he informed her. "What should I tell them?" About her being alive, that is.

"Tell them they were wrong," she said with a shrug. It wasn't always necessary for someone to die…

"Yes… All you need is a maleficar willing to have your demon baby… No, I think I'll just keep that to myself… I could just shrug and look stupid; it's a talent... Speaking of Morrigan, do you know where she went? I'm told she vanished _right _after the battle. No goodbyes or anything…"

"I don't know," she answered. "I'm not sure if I want to," she said truthfully.

"Good riddance, I say." Alistair sighed. "At any rate, I can see Arl Eamon is giving me that look… More king stuff, I suppose… You have lots to do and an adoring public to greet… Don't let me keep you."

Virtua gave him a smile and walked down the stairs. She bypassed many familiar faces. She found Leliana with a couple of priests.

"So here we are," Leliana said in greeting. "The conquering heroine has won the day, and now she takes her bow and exits the stage. A fine ending."

"I didn't do it on my own. You should be taking a bow with me," Virtua said with a smile.

"My part was small," Leliana liked to think. "You know, I can't help now but think of my vision. The Maker sent me to help you, and look what you did. It's a miracle, truly.

"I've been asked by the Chantry to return to the Urn of Sacred Ashes. I need to make sure it's protected. Maybe pilgrims can even begin going there again."

"Congratulations. Sounds like fun."

"I expect to leave a month from now, with a small army of templars and priests. It will be a grand adventure of my very own! I'm looking forward to it. At any rate," she started with a small shrug, "you should get back to the celebration. We can speak another time."

With a slight bow, Virtua left Leliana to herself. She approached Wynne next - the woman looked up immediately. "'The Hero of Ferelden'. My, my. How does it feel?" she asked.

"A little strange," she admitted with a short laugh.

"Of that I have no doubt. It's a title you'll be wearing for a long time to come. Just as Loghain wore his. But it's not so bad, is it? A Blight defeated with the other nations barely becoming aware. Who could ask for better?"

"As I told Leliana, I certainly didn't do it on my own."

"I don't think many heroes ever do. I'm glad not to be on the receiving end of all this attention, myself. I say, let the young have their fame. Not that I've gone without notice." At this, Virtua gave the woman a curious look. "Irving asked me to take over as first enchanter, but I don't wish to go back. Not after all this.

"Instead, I've decided to accept a position here at court. There has not been a mage advising the throne in a very long time."

"Alistair asked you to stay?" Virtua found herself smiling softly. At least he would not be alone.

"He's a good lad, and his heart is in the right place. He wants to see the lot of mages improved, and I am willing to help him." At this, Virtua nodded in understanding. "I understand you will be leaving. I wish you good fortune on your journeys wherever they may take you. If we do not see each other again...live well, Warden. And thank you..."

She found Oghren making himself busy by entertaining a few dwarves as well as an elf. "Humans have a better taste for spirits than I thought. Heh. The ale up here is actually _good_. Orzammar ale tastes like dirt in comparison. Probably because they put dirt in it. Go figure."

"Does that mean you're staying?" she asked him.

"Eh... For now. They've probably already branded me a surfacer back home, anyhow. I'm getting used to that big sky up there. And I'm thinking I might look up Felsi again..."

"I'm glad. I hope you two are happy."

"Ha! I'll drink to that! Ah, well! Enough babbling. That pot-bellied son of a whore Teagan said I'd pass out before drinking an entire barrel of pickle juice – I aim to prove him wrong."

Virtua laughed heartily. "Never change, Oghren."

"Who? Me?" Oghren grinned. "Been good traveling with you, Warden. Don't get lost in the shuffle, now."

Virtua gave a curt nod before moving over to Sten. She looked up at him and gave him a small smile. He acknowledged her with a nod of his own. "They call you 'hero'?" He seemed deep in thought. "I have not heard it used before, but I think I understand the intent. The arishok on occasion has declared a qunari to be _qunoran vehl_, one who serves as an example to others.

"Such examples are always made _after_ their death, however. A death in service of the Qun. A living _qunoran vehl_ would be too proud."

"Do the qunari celebrate and put on parades after having a _qunoran vehl_ declared?" she asked him, if only to compare the two events – if possible.

He nodded, saying, "It is one of few occasions that the qunari are permitted to engage in…revelry. There is imbibing of spirits, public chanting, meditations abandoned…it is madness."

"That would be quite the sight," she found herself saying, smiling like an idiot at the thought.

"It is…interesting. It can take days for the Ben-Hassrath to restore order," he admitted. "There may even be executions."

There was a short silence before he said, "I suppose I should tell you: I have decided to return to my people. Your quest is done, and thus so is my reason for accompanying you."

"That'll be a long trip home…"

"Yes, I suspect Par Vollen will not look the same as it once did. My views have…changed, a little. It must be said: you found my sword and gave me the chance to restore my honor. I owe you a great debt."

"You helped me as well," she said, bowing her head. "It's been good."

"It has. That one of the _bas_…a foreigner…would become known as _kadan_ to me? Unthinkable. Yet here it is." He gave her what _could have been_ a smile. "Perhaps I shall see you again one day. Until then, may you always find the path you seek. Farewell, _kadan_."

Finally, she went to Zevran, who she had purposely avoided earlier. She hugged him tightly – he returned the gesture. "I will be relieved when all this pomp and ceremony is done," he told her. "Such events are perfect opportunities for assassins, after all. I can't help but expect the Crows to appear at any moment. Which would be a welcome break, mind you."

"You think the Crows will still come after you?" she asked him.

"Eventually," he said with a slight nod. "With Taliesen dead, it may take them time to figure out what has happened...but they are like the tides. Predictable.

You know, it does occur to me that staying in one place is only going to invite the Crows to find me that much quicker. While fun, that might eventually get...complicated. You said earlier that you were planning on leaving soon. Is that true?"

"Only if you're leaving with me." She smiled.

He laughed softly, "Naturally. You caught me and now you're stuck with me, I'm afraid. Sad, I know, but we manage somehow.

Well, then...since I am sticking around, I suppose we'll have plenty of time to speak later, yes? So go on and get paraded about. It is fun to watch. And don't worry, I'll keep an eye on you and make sure no one gets a clear shot. Not without paying me a great _deal_ of coin, anyhow," he teased.

Her smile broadened and she shook her head before leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. With a slight wave of her hand, she started for the doors.

"Are you ready, my lady? The crowds outside are getting restless."

"Yes, I'm ready," she said confidently. "Let's go."

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><p>In the months that followed his coronation, Alistair surprised many by studying the art of governance and doing his best to rule the kingdom with a fair and even hand. He proved quite popular with the people, his humor and easy grace winning them over as much as his willingness to sneak out of the castle and mingle in the lower-class taverns on occasion.<p>

Virtua's companions went their separate ways. When she left Denerim to continue her travels, Zevran went with her, electing to remain with the woman he loved. They continued their adventures together - at least for a time.

As the blighted lands began to heal and the Grey Wardens slowly rebuilt the order in Amaranthine, they discovered that the fight against the darkspawn was not yet complete. Although the horde was routed and had dissolved upon the Archdemon's death, many of the more powerful darkspawn survived to organize roving war bands that preyed upon the land and upon each other.

These war bands spread havoc, and some even journeyed west into Orlais or crossed the Shining Sea by the Deep Roads. They proved incredibly difficult to wipe out.

These tales have not yet been told, and this tale ended when Virtua sank her blade into the Archdemon's head and destroyed it forever... This wasn't the last time that Thedas would hear from her, however.

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><p>She stared at him for the longest time. She stood, stark naked and with tears glistening in her pale eyes. "No..." she said, shaking her head. "I forbid this."<p>

"Forbid away," he murmured. "This is getting out of hand, _amor_. I need to go."

"Zevran, no..." She crossed the short distance between them. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in the curve of his neck. She felt his hands caressing her back, sliding up and into her ebony hair. "Don't go," she ordered it and he _would_ obey.

Zevran's smile was sad. His hold on her tightened. "I will be back for you," he promised.

"I won't forgive you," she whispered against his skin. "_Don't leave me_."

"Ssh... Come, let us not think of this right now." Slowly, he lowered them down and onto their sleeping mats. As close as the mats were, they could still hold one another - and he did hold her, quite desperately, actually.

Virtua laced their fingers. "Promise me you won't go, Zevran."

Again, he silenced her - this time with a slow, drugging kiss. "You are tired, sweetness. Rest now."

Virtua clutched at his strong arms, pressed herself closer - but it would never do. She'd have to be inside of him to get the closeness that she wanted, _needed_.

He stroked her hair, kissed her flushed cheeks, massaged the nape of her neck... She knew that he was trying to calm her. Eventually, her eyelids were too heavy to hold up. Her body felt leaden even as she relaxed further into him.

_I love you... _His voice whispered into her mind. She realized that she wasn't dreaming, that she could actually hear him. She fought the layers of sleep, panicked.

_Zevran! _She forced her eyes open, wide and searching despite her blurred vision. She reached out - and found nothing. The area next to her was cold; he'd been gone for a while. "Damn it...! Damn you!" she cried. "Zevran!"

She was done traveling - at least for now. She'd go to Amaranthine, make sure that the order was being rebuilt. Afterwards, she didn't know... She felt lost, cold and empty. Utterly hopeless.

Dyack approached, his head low and his eyes sad. He whined a little, drawing her attention. Slowly, she rose to her feet and dragged on her clothes. She only stared at her armor. She gathered her things at her own pace. Eventually, she heaved a sigh and waved for the Mabari hound to follow her.

Her heart sank deeper and deeper and her mind went comfortably numb at some point. She lifted her face to the wind, her eyes capturing the sun's light. Now was not the time for tears. The darkspawn were still a threat... She'd do everything in her power to defend her homeland. She could not be thanked for it, either - she _was_ a Grey Warden. It was simply what she did...

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><p><em>"In War, Victory. In Peace, Vigilance. In Death, Sacrifice." - Grey Warden Motto<em>

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><p><strong>AN: **_The Roots of Negativity_ is now complete! In truth, I wanted to write a post-game story, but wasn't sure how that would turn out. In any case, I hope you enjoyed this piece. :3


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